The Tycoon's Perfect Match

by Christine Wenger

  He knew he should relax, but he was very protective of his properties. “I know you’ll take care of the place as if it were your own.”

  She glanced back at the house. “I wish it still was.”

  He could kick himself for reminding her that the Sherwoods didn’t own Sherwood Lodge anymore. “I’m sorry, Mari. That was stupid. I didn’t mean to insinuate that—”

  “Oh, I know.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Don’t give it another thought. But I don’t want to keep you, Brian. I know you have other things to do.” Mari stifled a yawn. “I’m suddenly tired. Must be the fresh air. I could use a nap.” She winced. “Oh, no. I forgot to bring linens.”

  “No problem.” He went into his trunk and pulled out two plastic bags that contained two pillows, a set of queen sheets and some towels, and handed them to her. “I’m always prepared for any contingency.”

  “You always were. Must be the Eagle Scout in you.”

  He slammed the trunk shut and walked to the driver’s side of his car. “What about food? Are you hungry?”

  “Famished.” She rubbed her forehead. “Oh, no. I was so eager to get here, I can’t believe I forgot to pick up groceries, too. But I packed enough clothes for a year’s stay.”

  Mari seemed much more relaxed. At least they were talking freely and joking a bit. He knew they hadn’t parted on very good terms, but that was long ago, and he hoped that she didn’t still hold that against him. He’d been young and confused about his feelings for her.

  The only thing that he hadn’t been confused about was his plan—a carefully laid-out plan for his future. A plan that included him taking the business world by storm. And that plan hadn’t included Mari.

  But in retrospect, yes, he’d been an idiot.

  “Don’t worry about food, Mari. The Eagle Scout comes through again. I stocked the fridge. I got you some basics, along with hot dogs and hamburgers and some frozen pizzas. It should last you a few days until you go shopping.”

  “Coffee?”

  He nodded. “And a bottle of wine.”

  “You’re an angel, Brian.”

  “Aww…thanks. But that’s not what the other girls say.”

  “So then, you’re a devil?”

  He winked. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

  “You are so thirteen years old.” She rolled her eyes.

  He could have stayed there all night, teasing and talking to her, but he could take a hint. Instead, he gave her a salute, climbed into his car and drove off with a friendly wave.

  He’d be back tomorrow to check on her.

  After Brian left, Mari was struck by the silence.

  There weren’t any sounds of horns blaring or construction noises. There weren’t any traffic jams or people yelling, no phones ringing or faxes buzzing. There was only the gentle lapping of Hawk’s Lake as it kissed the shore.

  She opened the van doors and put the bags of linens in the front seat. She’d unload them later. Then she pulled out a folding lounge chair and carried it to the sandy beach at the edge of the lawn, unfolded it, got in and stretched out. As she watched the sun sparkle on the lake, she could hear the distant sound of a loon calling. Then she studied the intricate patterns on the double wings of a dragonfly that had landed on her sleeve.

  When a dragonfly landed on you, it was supposed to bring good luck. She could use some good luck.

  Pulling her jacket on as the cool evening air rolled in, she watched the sun set in a blaze of red and gold, and then decided that she needed to unload some clothes from the van. After making several trips, she was done, and it was dark out. Very dark.

  Her stomach growled, so she found some hot dogs in the refrigerator and put them in the microwave. How nice of Brian to stock the fridge for her. He’d always been sweet and thoughtful.

  No. Not always. On her last day at Sherwood Lodge, he had hurt her to the bone.

  After she ate, she grabbed a suitcase and the bags of linens that Brian had given her and climbed the stairs to her old room. Pausing at the doorway, she flicked on the light and looked around.

  The windows overlooked the lake on three sides. On the right wall, there was a little screened-in porch that faced the side yard and the boathouse. She used to watch for the Hawkins kids from that window, hoping that they would ask her to come out and play.

  On rainy days, she’d read a book or write in her diary. Some nights, she’d fall asleep on the small chintz-covered couch as the gentle waves lulled her to sleep.

  Mari set everything she was carrying onto the hardwood floor and walked over to the bed—her old brass bed! She ran her hand over the cool metal headboard that was decorated with sunflowers.

  She remembered snuggling under the covers and listening to the murmur of her parents’ voices on the porch below her.

  With both of her parents downstairs, Mari felt safe and secure and totally happy. This cottage was the only place that had ever really felt like home.

  Mari made up the bed, then undressed and slipped into a T-shirt and flannel pants. By the time she finished, a brisk wind was rattling the window frames. Soon, a hard rain began to pummel the roof and windows. A loud banging noise startled her, and she jumped. Over her pounding heart, she realized that it was just a loose shutter slamming against the outside of the cottage.

  She slipped into bed and snuggled under a colorful, striped Hudson’s Bay blanket and a fluffy beige comforter that she’d found in the hallway closet. The shutter banged again.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Midmorning, Brian turned down the dirt road that led to Sherwood Lodge and slowed down to dodge the puddles and potholes that had filled with water from last night’s storm.

  He was looking forward to seeing Mari again. It had been a long time since a woman had interested him and tweaked his curiosity, and Mari did both. Something had been missing in all the women he’d dated—something that he couldn’t identify.

  As a result of seeing Mari after twelve years, how beautiful and poised she’d become, he couldn’t sleep last night. It was like he’d been sucker punched.

  But when he thought about what she represented, that made him think about his life, and all that he’d missed. He was haunted by the realization that all his aspirations never materialized.

  Was it too late for him to give his dream career another shot?

  He certainly didn’t begrudge Mari the success she’d achieved. Sherwood Enterprises was her family’s business, just like Hawkins’s Garage was his. But that was like comparing watermelons to grapes. Sure, the garage was internationally acclaimed for Mel’s antique-car restoration work, and Jack’s custom-built stock cars were in high demand in North America and in Europe, but still, Sherwood Enterprises was huge—an international conglomerate.

  Brian swung into the parking area near the boathouse and climbed the side stairs that led to the sunporch. He was just about to knock when Mari opened the door and jumped.

  “Oh! Brian, you scared me. I didn’t hear you pull up.”

  She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray Harvard sweatshirt, her hair tied back in a ponytail. She looked tired—but beautiful—and eager to start a new day. She had a book and a mug in her hands.

  “I was going to go outside and read a little.” She eyed his suit and tie. “Are you working today? Isn’t it Saturday?”

  He nodded. “I had an appointment with a man who is being audited by the IRS on Monday. He and his lawyer wanted my opinion.”

  She did an exaggerated shiver, and he laughed.

  “Did you help him?” she asked.

  “I believe so.”

  “Did you do his taxes originally?”

  “No. If I did, he never would have been audited.”

  “Now that’s confidence. Maybe I should get you to do the taxes for Sherwood. We always get audited.”

  “Just say the word, and I’m there.” He couldn’t believe those words had come out of his mouth.

  “If
I thought you were serious, I’d take you up on that.”

  Even though he wanted to do more than taxes if he were ever hired at Sherwood, Mari didn’t really mean that she’d hire him. She probably thought of him as just a small-town CPA.

  She took a sip of coffee and smiled. “By the way, landlord, I didn’t get much sleep last night. There was a loose shutter banging in the wind.”

  “I’ll take a look and fix it.”

  “Thanks.” She pointed to the folder in his hand. “Is that for me to sign?”

  He gave her the folder and a pen. “I can go through it with you. We could do a joint inspection.”

  “No need. The cottage is perfect, or it will be, when you fix the shutter. And I sign several contracts a day. I can manage a little thing like this.” She glanced down at the papers.

  Whoa! That was a reminder that his little contract and routine forms were less than insignificant in her world.

  Maybe that wasn’t how she’d meant it. He was just being too sensitive, due to her success and his lack of it.

  He might as well fix the shutter and head back to the village.

  “I have some sweats in the car. I’ll fix the shutter so it won’t bother you again. Mind if I use the bathroom to change?”

  “No. And thanks, Brian,” she said over her shoulder, walking toward her lawn chair.

  He headed for his car, taking deep breaths and counting slowly to ten. What he really wanted to do was head to the gym and let off some frustration, or jog up the logging trail that twisted around Mist Mountain.

  Maybe then he’d sweat out the real reasons he hadn’t gone back to Wall Street. The feelings of guilt and responsibility he’d carried for years—a burden that had long since dimmed his dreams.

  He changed his clothes and put his suit into his car. Then he found a ladder in the storage barn, dusted the cobwebs off it with an old corn broom and lugged it to the cottage.

  Glancing over at Mari, he saw that she had the folder open and was looking at his contract. Correction: his little contract.

  He swore under his breath. It wasn’t Mari’s fault that he’d pretty much given up on his dreams. He had no one to blame but himself.

  He was just about to step onto the roof when a duck flew low over Mari, quacking loudly.

  She screamed and rolled off the lawn chair, hitting the ground facedown. Papers flew everywhere.

  He tried not to smile as he climbed down the ladder to see if she was okay. Just as he reached her, she lifted her head and began to laugh. He helped her up and wasn’t prepared for the way his nerve endings started to tingle when he touched her arms. He pulled her up and into his arms to steady her. Their foreheads touched as she looked down at her wet, muddy clothes.

  “That was a duck, wasn’t it?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Uh-huh.”

  She didn’t move from his arms, but seemed to feel comfortable.

  She still chuckled, and he could feel each movement of her body against his. “Do you know how dumb I feel right now?” she asked.

  “I’ve got a good idea.”

  Any resentment that was still churning inside him faded when he saw Mari’s smile and heard her laugh.

  “If you tell anyone that I was scared by a duck, I’ll deny it.”

  “Pirate promise.” He put his index finger and thumb to his lips and made like he was turning a key and throwing it away over his shoulder. It was their old childhood pledge, a vow made whenever they were sure they would get into trouble for something they’d done.

  “Pirate promise,” she mumbled, staring at his lips.

  Suddenly, his mouth went dry and he couldn’t swallow. Then she blinked and turned away.

  He took a deep breath and let it out. What was she trying to do to him?

  “I can’t believe you remembered that.” Her voice seemed far away, as if she were thinking out loud.

  “Of course I do.”

  She blinked. “Well, I should probably get out of these muddy clothes,” she said, moving away to pick up the papers and slip them into the folder. Handing it to him, she said, “They’re a bit wet, but they’re signed.”

  “Okay.” He put the folder onto her lounge chair and wove it under and over a couple of straps to keep it from blowing away. “I’ll get it later. I’d better get back to the shutter.”

  As he turned to walk away, Mari reached out to stop him. Before she touched him, she quickly dropped her hand.

  “Brian, I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing in Hawk’s Lake after twelve years,” she said quietly.

  He nodded. “It had crossed my mind.”

  “I was always happy here—mostly,” she said quietly, looking out at the water.

  “We did have a great time when we were kids,” he said truthfully. “I couldn’t wait till you got here every summer.” He purposely avoided addressing the reason why she wasn’t completely happy here. It was because of him.

  He thought about their first kiss, and how sweet and warm her lips tasted—like blueberries and sunshine. Her eyes widened, and he knew that she was remembering the same moment.

  “The summers that I spent here were wonderful,” she said. “They were the best times of my life, and I want to do it all again. That’s one of the reasons I’m here now.”

  He realized that it was the best time of his childhood, too, mostly due to Mari.

  Whenever they were together, he could be himself. He’d share his dreams of leaving Hawk’s Lake and making a name for himself in the business world, and Mari wouldn’t laugh, like his sister or brother would.

  “You can do it, Bri,” she’d always said. “I know you can.”

  Talking with Mari fed his soul, and he’d feel like he was on top of the world.

  His adventures with Mari fed his spirit. Along with their endless pirate scenarios, they solved imaginary mysteries, caught enough bad guys to fill two prisons and saved the lives of many innocents.

  And just before Mari went back to Boston for good, he’d lost his heart to her.

  The thought of saying goodbye hurt too much—so he didn’t. He took the easy way out and accepted a job at a sleep-away camp in a nearby town, where he spent the remainder of the summer.

  It had been a long time since he’d gone swimming in the lake, or taken a boat ride just for the fun of it. He hadn’t fished or waterskied in years. Why not? The lake was just yards from the front yard of Hawk’s Roost, his family’s camp up the lake. He didn’t even have time for golf, and his town house was on the second fairway of a golf course. His life was his work, and had been for quite some time.

  But Mari’s excitement was contagious, and suddenly he felt the urge to rediscover the fun of all those things with her, and more.

  “It’s a little cold right now for swimming, but it’ll be okay in a month or so,” he said. “In the meantime, we could hike, go on a few picnics. I could find us a couple of bikes, and—”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “You don’t understand.”

  “What don’t I understand?”

  Mari sighed. “I’m sorry, Brian. I’d love to do all those things and more. But I came to Hawk’s Lake because I was going through a rough patch and needed to get away from everything—my job, Boston and men in general.” She paused and gave him a weak smile. “I hope you understand, but I need to figure out my life and make some decisions. And I can’t afford any distractions.”

  Brian’s smile faded. “I get it. You want me to leave you alone.”

  Chapter Four

  Mari flushed and realized she’d totally bungled her explanation.

  Brian wanted to re-create the fun times of her childhood for her, and she was being an ungrateful jerk.

  He looked down at her as if she’d just slapped him. In a way, she had.

  “It’s not you,” she added quickly. “And it’s not that I wouldn’t like to see more of you and catch up, but…”

  She faltered. He didn’t need to know all this. Besides, she didn’t know w
hat more to say without sounding presumptive. He wasn’t asking her out on a date, he was just being nice.

  Brian yanked off his sweatshirt, and she caught a glimpse of his muscled stomach before he tugged down a bright blue T-shirt. She cast her eyes to the lake to avoid looking at him.

  “I understand.” He waved away any further explanation and began climbing the ladder. “But trust me, Mari. A couple of weeks alone out here, and you’ll be screaming for company.”

  Brian found the offending shutter. The eye of the hook-and-eye catch was missing, the part that held it to the house. In the winter, the shutters could be hooked together over the windows to block out snow and wind. There was nothing he could do right now other than nail the shutter to the house, and there was no way he was going to do that. Or he could tap out the hinges, if he had the tools.

  But he didn’t, so Mari would just have to live with the shutter whacking against the house until he could get the part.

  A big chunk of him was ticked. Here he was, trying to make her return to Hawk’s Lake as perfect and as convenient as possible, and she was basically telling him to hit the road.

  Well, that was an exaggeration. She’d come here on vacation, and for some fun, not to support his sudden zest for activity.

  Brian climbed down the ladder and put his tools away, ready to head back to his office in the village.

  If she wanted to be alone, that was her prerogative, but he was still disappointed.

  He fired up his Mustang, and was just about to back up when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw the lift on the side of the van lowering to the ground. Mari stood on it, holding a red dolly with what he assumed was her pottery wheel balanced precariously on it.

  She was going to hurt herself. He turned off his car and hurried toward the van. “Why didn’t you yell for me?”

  “I didn’t want to bother you, and I thought I could do it myself. But it’s a little awkward.”